Page 61 of A Captain For Clarissa
The thought gave her an idea, and she looked at her sister. “Di. Would you do me a favour?”
“Anything, dearest, you have only to name it!”
“Would you give a ball?”
Diana blinked in bemusement. “A ball?”
“Yes. Mama and Papa can hardly refuse to permit me to attend, and you can make sure Rafael is on the guest list.”
Understanding dawned, and Diana chuckled. “Of course, Clarry. It might take a little time to arrange, however… two weeks?”
“That would be perfect,” Clarissa agreed. Two weeks should give her time to make it very clear to her parents that none of the candidates they kept presenting to her would ever be acceptable… and she supposed, it would also give Edward Dalton time to make himself scarce from any place Rafael might decide to look for him once she told Rafael of Dalton’s sabotage.
Two weeks later, Clarissa found herself standing before a gilded mirror in Diana’s London townhouse. The candlelight flickered, casting dancing shadows on the emerald silk of her new ball gown.
“You look radiant, dearest,” Diana said, adjusting a stray curl that had escaped Clarissa’s elaborate coiffure.
Clarissa forced a smile. “Thank you, Di.” She swallowed, her mouth dry. “Is he here?”
“Arrived a few minutes ago with Alex and Marianne.” Diana linked her arm through Clarissa’s. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Clarissa lifted her chin, determined. Tonight, she was going to see Alex, to talk and dance with him, no matter what her father might say. The earl wasn’t going to create a ruckus at Diana’s first London ball; his wife would never forgive him.
As the sisters descended the grand staircase, the sounds of laughter and music washed over them. Clarissa’s eyes scanned the crowded ballroom, her breath catching as she spotted a familiar tall, dark form.
Rafael.
Even from a distance, she could see how he stood out among the other gentlemen, his practical but well-tailored navy uniform a stark contrast to their ornate waistcoats and brocade jackets.
“Clarissa,” her father’s stern voice startled her as she reached the bottom of the steps and started towards Rafael. The Earl of Creighton appeared at her elbow, his expression severe. “I must speak with you.”
He led her to a quiet corner of the ballroom, away from prying ears. Clarissa’s stomach twisted with apprehension.
“I’ve noticed how you look at that Portuguese captain,” her father said in a low, disapproving tone. “I forbid you to go near him tonight. Do you understand?”
Clarissa’s cheeks flushed with indignation. “But Father, Captain de Silva is a gentleman and—“
“A penniless foreigner,” the Earl interrupted. “He’s not suitable company for you. I won’t have any gossip about my daughter and a man of his... circumstances.”
Clarissa bit her tongue, knowing that arguing would only make matters worse. She nodded stiffly, her mind already racing with ways to circumvent her father’s edict.
“Yes, Father,” she replied, her voice dripping with barely concealed sarcasm. “I shall endeavour to avoid all men of honour and good character this evening.”
The Earl’s eyes narrowed. “Mind your tone, young lady. Now, go make yourself agreeable to Lord Ashbury. He’s been asking after you.”
“Absolutely not.” Clarissa lifted her chin defiantly. “If I cannot marry Captain de Silva, I shall not marry anyone!”
Turning on her heel, she stormed away from her father, losing herself among the glittering crowd before he could begin to shout and cause a scene. Half-blinded by tears of rage and frustration, she stumbled on without looking where she was going, ignoring voices that called out to her, until she ran hard into an immovable object and warm, strong arms closed around her.
“Clarissa.” His low voice whispered her name, and she looked up to find him gazing down at her with concern written all over his handsome face. “Are you well, meu amor?”
“Dance with me,” she begged, and he asked no questions, only whirled her onto the dance floor. They joined a set with Alex and Marianne, and Clarissa tried to lose herself in enjoying the dance, though she almost began to cry again when Marianne squeezed her hand gently in passing. She could see her mother standing at the edge of the dance floor, glaring disapprovingly, and her father too, with Diana and Will beside him probably the only thing keeping the earl from making a scene.
“I have to tell you something,” she began, looking up at Rafael.
“That your parents are determined to forbid me from you?” His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “I will persist, nevertheless.”
She loved him all the more for it. “And if it becomes necessary, I will leave it all behind and run away with you,” she said, her voice low, for his ears alone. “The only thing stopping me from doing it tonight is the thought of my younger sisters and their future prospects. They do not deserve to be embroiled in a scandal.”
